


Half-Baked

by herbailiwick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 11:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18590296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: Sassy Sebastianon prompted: “Johnovan, established relationship; baking for the holidays”I love you so much. This is a perfect prompt. John wants to branch out in the kitchen.Written 10/21/2012.





	Half-Baked

“I said you could help,” she said, staring at him. “I didn’t say you could make your own recipe for biscuits.” She looked him up and down. “Do you think this is easy or something?”

“Come on, sweetheart, do I look like I’m afraid of something that’s a bit of a challenge?” he said, hands on his hips. “Honestly, are you, champion of equality, saying men have no place in the kitchen?”

“Of course not!” Sally said with a tut, heading to grab a second apron for John. “Just look at Gordon Ramsey. I’m just saying _you_ have no place in the kitchen, or at least that’s been the established pattern of things.”

“And you’re afraid to break a pattern. I see.”

“Afraid of your baking, more like,” she said, handing the apron over, watching him put it on over his jumper, having him turn round so she could help with the string. “All I’m saying is, John, that you’ve got to have experience to just wing it like I do. I cooked and baked all the time growing up. You told me you didn’t.”

“So I’ve got a lot to catch up on. We can afford for me to make one shit batch of biscuits. We’ve got the money,” he said, giving her a nudge.

She paused, lip quirking up slightly. Actually, he had a point. Things were different than when she’d been baking growing up. “Okay, then. Shall I assist you?”

“Yeah. And you can decorate, if they’re alright. I want to try a sort of mint gingerbread.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see what happens. But, yeah, I’ll decorate. You’re shit at it.”

“I really, really am,” he admitted seriously, and then he grinned.

And she grinned too. And as he turned to the workspace and started to set up his ingredients and bowls, he felt a soft sensation at his back, then again at his shoulder, and he glanced at his shoulder. She’d thrown flour at him!

He blinked, then turned round smoothly. “Oh, Mrs Watson. You don’t want to do that,” he said warningly. “No, no, bad idea.” She squealed when he made his first move of retaliation, flinging sugar in her pretty hair.

Christmas music played quietly in the background from the next room as the two of them dodged and attacked and laughed.

And, when cooled and tasted, they found John’s biscuits were almost right, but not there yet, so she gave him a few tips, which he accepted and tried out. And Sally decorated.

No one wanted to believe at first that John had done it, but Sally just demanded of the doubters, “Are you saying John has no place in the kitchen?”

And John just laughed and said, “My place in the kitchen, Sargent Watson, is right next to you.”


End file.
